Drunken Road Trips and Family Bonding
by The Cowgirl Bookworm
Summary: While the galaxy celebrates not being obliterated by a jackass of a planet, Peter and Yondu come up with a plan, while extremely drunk, that should solidify their new parental bond. Road trip to Terra! Warning: Contains too much fluff, my attempts at keeping everyone in character and a Quill family reunion
1. Celebrate Good Times

Kraglin is telling the story for what has to be the tenth time, to the tenth different clan leader. "So I see Quill out there, holding Yondu and just bawling. I pulled them both in with the tractor beam and the kid starts crying even harder. The he grabs me!" Kraglin twisted his face, making a mockery of Peter's blubbery sobs. "'Is he dead? Come on, help me!' Kid runs back over to Yondu, who's just getting up, and tackles him down again. Wasn't until Yondu yelled at him to get off and hit him upside the head that he realized the captain wasn't dead!" This is met with a roar of laughter, and hundreds of drinks are raised the air, fifty different languages translating to one thing.

"To Yondu Udonta!"

Every bit of booze is downed, then more roars from the crowd for more booze, more music, more games, more stories. The Ravagers had been celebrating the near death of Yondu and his return to the Ravager fold for nigh on three days, and it was quickly looking to turn into three weeks with the way the news was spreading. Ravager ships were docked all around the galaxy, hundreds of planets filled with leather coated thieves and murderers, who has sworn off those aspects while they celebrated the return of one of their own.

Said returning one was currently sitting at a table above the pit that housed the vast majority of the bar. Surrounded by what he considered his family, Yondu was pounding drinks as fast as the rest of them, had already played ten games of Five Finger Filet with Stakar, the arrow occasionally wobbling as Yondu got drunker and drunker, his whistling slipping and threatening to remove one of Stakar's fingers. It was during the sixth game that a hush had fallen over the bar as a sleek suited Xandarian walked in, her bodyguards flanking her.

Nova Prime had walked calmly through the bar, right up to the makeshift dais. "Yondu Udonta, I am pleased to see you still among the living."

"And why's that, Irani?" Yondu had chuckled, tapering off into a whistle at the end which almost pierced Stakar's pinky.

"Xandar still owes you a great debt." She reached over and picked up whatever rot gut Yondu had been drinking. Sniffing, she downed it in one. The glass thudded back on the table. "And I do so hate when a debt goes unpaid."

Stakar smiled, patting the seat next to him. "I can think of a few ways you can repay it."

A guard immediately whipped his blaster at him. Nova Prime smiled. "Not likely Ogord. But paying for part of your revelry might be a start." She turned to the bar, raising her voice. "Tonight, your drinks are on the Nova Corps!" This is greeted with a yell, quickly followed by a drinking song about a Xandarian woman who had a hundred different partners and how she left one for the next until she had made her way through every species in the galaxy. At that, Nova Prime had joined the high table, and was currently matching Drax drink for drink.

Rocket had scampered up to a high place, drink clutched in one paw as he kept an eye on Groot who was running through the crowd as fast as his feet could carry him. The bartender had somehow managed to make something that a young Flora Colossus could drink. It was really just sugar water colored with different food coloring, but Groot was enjoying it as much as everyone else was enjoying their booze. For every different colored drink, he's sprout flowers and run around the bar passing them out.

Gamora and Nebula, were doing their equivalent of sisterly bonding, namely sparring so intensely that Yondu was surprised they hadn't broken any bones. They were on their third match, back to back as they fended off five mostly drunken Ravagers. Rule was that losers had to buy the winners drinks.

Now Peter, he had barely left Yondu's side all night. Kept reaching over, brushing his fingers across Yondu's shoulder as he got another drink. He was doing it again when Yondu spun around and grabbed his fingers. Hard. "You doin' that again, boy?"

Peter plastered a dopey smile over his equally plastered face. "Can't still quite believe you're here." His eyes darkened. "Don't want to almost lose you again."

The Centaurian snorted. "Lot meaner things than your jackass of a father have gotten closer, now quit touchin' me." He jerked his coat back over himself, the quick movement dislodging Peter's fingers.

Stakar chuckled. "Little family drama there, Udonta?"

"Shove it Ogord." He'd gone back to nursing his drink.

More Ravagers poured into the bar, already in a fine state of inebriation, and the sight of more of their kind only fueled those already here. Rocket ducked out when Groot fell off Nova Prime while braiding flowers into her hair, taking him to the rooms they'd rented before the massive party. Drax was currently passed out under the table, Nova Prime calmly speaking of the charms of Xandar and the honor in serving in the Nova Corps to one of the Ravager's better strategists, whose eyes were staring to drift away from Irani's face and towards the swell of her bust until one of the Xandarian bodyguards brought his blaster up to the table. At that, he suddenly straightened, listening intently.

Nebula and Gamora were being paraded from bar to bar, defeating the top fighters in each clan. And Peter was still by Yondu, unwilling to leave his side. He had a glassy look to his face, occasionally reaching towards Yondu, but quickly pulling his hand back when the other man noticed. He spoke slowly, words slurred as he tried to get them out. "'M glad you ain't dead." He poked the blue man on the arm. "Wasss sssooo scared."

Yondu jerked his arm away. "Gods Quill, you were out there longer than me when we pulled yer ass back in."

"You allmmoossst died."

"So did you." Yondu glared at the Terran. "And did I sit there motherin' ya? No, I whupped yer ass like ya needed."

"You wan' me to kick your ass?" Peter slurred, looking like he could do little more than raise his head off his hand.

"No, I want ya to quit treatin' me like I'm gonna disappear on ya." Yondu tried shifting in his chair, almost upending himself.

Stakar was laughing from where his head rested on the table. "You two got issues."

Every single person in this bar had issues, it came with being part of the Ravagers.

He kept going. "My dad, when he got mad at me and after we settled it, he'd take me out somewhere. Hunting, fishing." Stakar rolled his eyes up, "Whoring, fighting. Stealing was his favorite. He once stole a whole cargo ship, got the crew shit faced and they gave him the key." He kept laughing, until he fell out of his chair and the laughs turned to snores.

Peter smiled. "There's fisshh back in Miss, Missis," he screwed his face up in concentration, "Miss-ou-ri. Terra."

"What, you want to go fishing?" Yondu sneered, feeling the alcohol roiling in his gut. He wasn't drunk enough to get all mushy on the two Quill's he was seeing, but he was getting there.

"Yeah, Gramps he showed me real good spots." He began to describe them, each description getting more and more vague as the drinks kept coming.

Yondu stayed quiet, until he'd drank about four more rounds. Most everyone else had passed out, which meant it wouldn't get out if he acted a little more fatherly towards the boy. 'Sides, a trip to Terra was only thirty jumps, wouldn't be that bad. "You really want to go back to Terra, boy?"

"Yesshhh."

"Keep your damn mouth shut and come on then." Yondu stood, almost fell, then almost fell again when Peter quickly attached himself to Yondu's side. They made their way out as best thy could, which meant they only tripped over five different people, kicked three out of the way, and interrupted one mating ritual. Quill was nearly asleep by the time they reached what was left of the Eclector, and Yondu wasn't far behind. He left the boy on the captain's bunk, and the last thing he remembered was inputing the coordinates for Terra into the autopilot, because at that point the floor was nice and cold and his coat made a good pillow.

Nova Prime watched the ship leave, a small smile on her face.


	2. There's a Pounding in My Head

When Rocket came back to the bar the next morning, a still sleepy Groot tucked into his vest, he found the Ravager horde in various states of unconsciousness. Kraglin seemed to be part of a spooning line, all the crews piling together. Drax was blinking blearily at Nova Prime, who was still at the table, surrounded by passed out Ravagers. A small pyramid of shot glasses had grown in front of her, a few shattering as Drax lifted himself off the ground. It took him a few tries to get his voice to work, and even then it still sounded like he'd been sucking on the Milano's exhaust fumes. "That should have killed you."

Irani glanced at the pile of empty glasses. "That was a regular weekend night for me. Well, twenty years ago, but you don't quite forget how to handle yourself."

"You're something else, lady." Rocket rolled his eyes, climbing up the table leg.

Groot turned over, saw his flowers still in Nova Prime's hair and immediately tried to disentangle himself to get at them. "I am Groot."

"No, you can't go finish braiding her hair."

"I am Groot."

"I don't care that it was only half done."

His little eyes started to water. "I am Groot."

"No, I am not being an asshole! You don't need to!"

Their argument was interrupted as Nova Prime reached over, gently placing Groot on her shoulders where he proceeded to begin sprouting more flowers. "I'd worry less about him and more about where the rest of your team is."

"Well Drax is here, hungover as shit. Mantis I made stay in the rooms, poor girl doesn't need her first night out to be around this bunch of drunken savages." He looked around. I think I saw Nebula passed out on the roof of someplace, last I heard of Gamora she was swinging from a chandelier."

There was a sudden movement as part of the spooning line shot straight up. Kraglin whipped his head around. "Cap'n?"

He then proceeded to vomit, just, everywhere.

The spooning line promptly kicked Kraglin out, shifting to get away from his mess. He dragged himself over to their little group, only vomiting twice on the way over. He sat on the floor, a glazed look on his face. "Cap'n? Quill?"

"Ain't seen 'em." Rocket replied, looking out over the crowd. No massive red fin, no red hair. "Shit, where'd they go?"

"You check any other bars?" Kraglin tipped his head back, eyes sliding shut as he tried to block out the morning sun that seemed to be set to supernova.

"Nah, last place I remember seeing them was here." Rocket look at the door, which seemed to be getting farther away. Damn, guess he was more hungover than he thought. "They can take care of themselves. Quill's a big boy now. Plus, he's got his daddy with him." He chuckled, turning around. "His daddy, right?"

Kraglin had fallen back asleep, Drax had smashed the table and various glasses when he fell over, and Nova Prime was currently cradling a sleeping Groot. She smiled at him. "Once you've recovered, probably in a few weeks, I'll have the Nova Corps send you their last heading."

Rocket nodded, feeling himself slipping away.

The last thing he saw was Nova Prime's hair, which to be fair, looked absolutely stunning with all those flowers braided in.

* * *

This wasn't the first time Yondu has woken up not in his bed, not sure what system he was in, and not sure what had happened last night. He groaned, rolling over slightly. Some blue and green fucking planet outside, like he gave a shit. He looked up at the maze of pipes and wires on the ceiling, and his head was already beginning to pound. There were pills in his cabin, that was what he needed. It took a bit of maneuvering, and more than a little cursing, but he finally made it to the cabin door. All he had to do was swipe his thumb over a pad and it opened, revealing Quill splayed out all over his bed.

Now, this was not the first time he'd found the boy in his bed. Kid had nightmares something terrible when they'd first picked him up. May have had something to do with threatening to eat him every time he made a stupid mistake, but the kid had to know Yondu was joking about all that, right? First Quill'd tried sleeping in Kraglin's bed, but the Xandarian had kicked him out quick. Ravagers weren't the cuddly type as a rule, so the kid tried keeping to his bunk.

Then he'd fallen over in the mess line one morning, passed out.

Yondu had drug his ass back to his cabin, put him in his bed, and gone on with the rest of his day. When he'd come back, the little Terran had been sitting up, a blanket acting like a cloak over his head. Those watery eyes, his voice had been all wobbly. "Are you gonna kick me out? I'm sorry I can't sleep, I used to crawl in with my Mom, back before she got sick. I was just trying to sleep." Kid didn't make much sense, even when he wasn't bone tired.

Yondu smiled, remembering how he had pinched his nose and rolled his eyes. "One night." He'd said. "One night, and no snuggling shit." He got down on his knees in front of the kid, showing off his yaka arrow. "And you tell anyone, I'll gut you so fast you won't even feel it."

Of course, come morning the boy had slept the whole night through, and Yondu had wrapped his arms around him.

It had happened on and off over the years, the boy just needing to feel like he wasn't alone on the ship. Wasn't like they didn't have any other humans, but they'd all been born out here. Quill still missed Terra, missed his family, friends, fucking pets and shit. That faded as he got older, until Quill watched one of his friends get shot down right in front of him after a raid gone wrong. Boy was only seventeen, and he'd already seen too many people die.

Yondu'd held him through the night, telling him how the galaxy ain't fair, it ain't gonna give you shit, you gotta take it and don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

Quill had blubbered. "But he was my friend."

He grabbed his ears at that, pressing his forehead to the younger man's. "You think I ain't lost friends out there?" He had swiped his hand out at the black space beyond. "You see me cryin'?"

That had apparently been the wrong thing to say, because the crying had only gotten worse. Yondu had eventually had to grab Quill's Walkman, shoving the headphones over the kids ears. Norman Greenbaum's "Spirit in the Sky" could be heard leaking out. Yondu hadn't said anything after that, merely wrapping an arm around him until Quill came to his own conclusion about the mysteries of life and death. Eventually they'd both fallen asleep, Yondu curled around the boy come morning. Shaking these memories away, Yondu walked over to the bed. Part of him wanted to push the boy out of bed, and a smaller part wanted to cover him in the kicked off blanket.

He compromised, pulling the blanket over the kid before pulling Quill's eyelid open. "You got five minutes to get your ass outta my bed."


	3. Earth Below Us, Drifting, Falling

Since jettisoning most of the Eclector Yondu hadn't exactly had the chance to make a supply run. Hell, he was lucky there was a table, let alone chairs. So all there was left to eat was something that had molded in a forgotten refrigeration unit. He'd picked most of the mold off, and to be honest, it wasn't too bad. Quill had emerged from the cabin, sat down, vomited when he saw what Yondu was eating, and then collapsed onto the table. Yondu finished his impromptu meal, his headache fading already. "Where the hell's this place ya were goin' on about?"

"Missouri." Peter's voice was muffled against the table. "Ridgeton."

Yondu rummaged in his coat, pulling out a projector. Like most Ravager tech it had been cobbled together from spare parts, smashed, repaired, burned, and was currently being held together by a couple strategic pieces of adhesive and sheer force of will. Terra had been mapped out ages ago, and he waved his hand through the hologram, dismissing descriptions until he found the one he wanted. He considered the display in front of him, then pushed the projector towards Quill. "You find it."

Quill glanced up, brows furrowed in concentration. "That's France."

"You think I did much studyin' when I was pickin' ya up?"

"Kidnapping."

"Shut up and find whatever place you were talkin' 'bout."

Peter raised his head, fingers weaving through holograms until he had zoomed in on a large lake. "Here."

Yondu pressed a button, locking the display and coordinates. He tossed the projector back and forth as he made his way out of the mess. "Be in the hanger in ten."

"This thing has a hanger?"

Yondu gestured at the ship around them which, while smaller than the Eclector, was still substantial. "If'n I bring this thing down, yer whole planet would shit a brick."

"Ok, maybe you have a point." Peter replied, pulling himself off the table with a massive amount of effort. "But you have another ship on this thing?"

"Small one, ain't that useful. But it'll get us through the atmosphere."

It took Quill a bit longer than ten minutes, closer to an hour, to get into the small fighter that had been stashed away in the hanger. By that point, Yondu was more than ready to get Quill back down to Terra by tying him to the hull and letting him reenter on the outside. The ride was a little tense to say the least. Yondu looked over from the window. "Why you actin' like you ain't ever drank before?"

Peter was only holding onto consciousness because he was about to see his home planet again. "Because I've gone out drinking with your friends."

"You've been drinkin' with Ravagers since you was sixteen. Kraglin drug you back from that dive back on Krante 4, said you only had two drinks 'fore you passed out."

"There's a difference between that and three days of drinking!" Quill raised his voice, then blinked in pain before doing his best to huddle in his seat. "Is that usual? The week long party?"

Yondu watched the flames of reentry dissipate across the window. He gave a craggy smile. "Stakar and I pulled a job, back when I was first settin' out on my own. Went off without a hitch. Crews drank for ten days, racked up twenty thousand units in bounties, and we got chased out of every bar in the quadrant."

Peter shuddered. "Remind me to never go out with you guys again."

"Ah come on, boy. It's funner than sittin' in the Kyln." Yondu cracks a golden smile in bad need of orthodontia as the miniature M-ship get closer, the curve of the Earth disappearing, lines turning into rivers. The green patches that had been growing came farther into focus, turning into forests and farms. The coordinates from the projector map are over a series of low hills, a lake spread out, trees coming all the way to the edge. Yondu couldn't help but dive the ship towards the lake's surface, pulling up quickly and sending up a huge spray.

Quill gave a loud whoop as they pulled out of the dive, which quickly turned into a dry heave. But he didn't turn green, and nothing came up, so that was some improvement. There was a bit of a clearing near the edge of the lake, rocky soil unsuitable for trees. The ship settled down, hunkering down below the trees. Peter moved as quickly as he could, which meant Yondu only had to move at a brisk walk to catch up to the boy before he reached the ramp. Quill paused at the end, looking out over the lake. The reflection from the sun sent up a spray of light over his face, and Yondu dug his fingers into his palm to stop the happiness he was feeling from reaching his face. Couldn't show the boy that he was glad for him. Then Quill'd just start blubbering again, like when he'd gotten pulled back in from the space above Ego. A shadow crossed over his eyes. He'd hoped that Kraglin had been close by, it wasn't like he had a death wish. But he'd have accepted it. Long as the kid made it out, he'd have froze gladly. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, his eyes filling with a pride that he desperately wants to fight down.

Not that Peter noticed, too busy staring at a planet he never thought he would see again. He turned, grabbing Yondu in a hug that threatened to break the poor alien's ribs. His voice was thick, "Thank you."

Yondu allows him one more squeeze before struggling in the boy's grip. Usually he lets go, but now the boy just squeezes him tighter. It's like the boy got replaced with a Yutalian constrictor, getting tighter around Yondu and unwilling to let go, and sweet stars above, were those tears?

Sentiment, it would be the death of him.


	4. Got a World of Trouble On My Mind

In the end Yondu'd had to whistle to get Quill to let him go. And then the boy was off like a plasma shot, running to the lake, splashing, then racing off into the trees. Yondu stepped off the ship, scuffing his boot through the soil. It was rocky, but loose. Alright to set the ship on, but if Quill had any ideas about sleeping on the ground he could damn well do it himself. There was a rustle in the trees as Peter crashed out of them, grinning like a maniac. "Everything's the same! Same trees, same water!" He laughed, jumping off a slight rise. "Gramps taught me to fish right over there!"

Yondu looked over, seeing a muddy patch of river bank. "He teach ya how to cook 'em? 'Cause the last time I let ya cook we had to disinfect the mess and space every pot we had."

Peter turned red, remembering how Yondu had threatened to put Quill in the next meal if he approached the kitchen again. That had been loudly seconded by the majority of the crew, along with various threats if Peter so much as looked at a stove. Peter looked around, trying to find enough rocks to ring a campfire. "Well, yeah. I mean it isn't that hard. Put 'em on sticks, put 'em over a fire." He wrinkled his brow. "Shit, we don't have any fishing gear."

"Gear?"

"Yeah, poles, hooks, line."

Yondu gave a whistle, his arrow zipping up. "Boy, we got all the gear we need."

He whistled a trill, sending the arrow flying towards the water. It disappeared in a haze of mist, and Yondu smiled, imagining every fish that he took out was Taserface or any of the other mutineers. His arrow came scudding back to his hand, half a dozen fish floating in the lake, each pierced through an eye. "Alright boy, go get dinner."

Peter looked out at the lake. The closest fish had to be a hundred feet away. "You couldn't get 'em any closer?"

"You complain' that I got ya dinner?"

Quill stalked off, grumbling and shedding his shirt as he dove into the water. He looked back over his shoulder. "That's not how you fish, Yondu! We're doing it right tomorrow!"

* * *

After Stakar had recovered from his own hangover, then a laughing fit, he was more than willing to lend them an M-ship to chase after the wayward Guardians. Not that he was over concerned, still guffawing as Groot was passed from hand to hand into the ship. "I still don't understand why you're so concerned. Those two will be fine."

"We're a team." Kraglin muttered, hauling a load of guns up the ramp.

"Yondu was still on my crew when he ran off the first time, came back a week later with enough jewels to pay off the bounty he'd acquired stealing them." Stakar smiled, remembering the young Centaurian finally coming into his own after weeks of adjusting to the Ravagers. "That was when I realized I'd found a good friend in him."

Rocket, dragging a bag bigger than himself, no doubt full of various bits and pieces that could be assembled rapidly into something deadly, shook his head. "Don't think I'll ever get used to you Ravagers and your weird ass bonding."

Stakar snorted. "What do you guys do? Group hug and braid flower chains?"

There was an audible gasp from Groot.

"Excepting you tree." Stakar picked at something, or someone, stuck in his teeth. "Just try to get the ship back in one piece, word around is you bunch have a habit of blowing 'em up." He stalked off down the gangway, only stopped when Mantis, escorted by Drax brushed against his arm.

Her feelers glowed. "He is concerned." She smiled. "For his friends, and for us."

Stakar glared. "If your empath touches me like that again, I'm stitching her feelers to her head."

Drax pressed Ogord against a railing. "If you touch Mantis I will use your skull as a drinking glass." The two men glared at each other, before Stakar roughly turned away, cursing under his breath. Drax practically dragged Mantis aboard the ship.

"Why was he angry?" Mantis asked as they walked towards the cockpit. "Concern and worry is understandable when friends are missing."

"Ravagers refuse to discuss their emotions."

"Oh! Like Peter and Gamora." Mantis almost clapped her hands. "But acknowledging their emotions helps, don't they recognize that?"

"They are strange and foolish." Drax said with finality as the M-ship dropped down from the hanger. They both stumbled a bit before the thrusters kicked in. The moon they had been partying on began to recede, ringed by Ravager ships, and if there were a few Nova Corp ships mixed in, well, no one was going to make a big deal about it. Drax looked down at Rocket, currently downloading coordinates from Nova Prime's ship.

Rocket cursed as he pulled up the star chart. "Of friggin' course."

Gamora glanced over. "What did he do now?"

"Nothing major, only took a jump that could come out in twenty different spots." Rocket began typing rapidly along the chart input. "I can try and narrow it, but more than likely we're going to be searching through half the system before we find whatever jump they took after this one."

There was a great deal of cursing after that, which Groot tried to relieve by sprouting enough flowers to give to everyone. They all thanked him, except for Nebula who merely glared as the scared little tree dropped it in front of her. It took a pointed kick from Gamora before she grunted, "Thanks."

* * *

The fish were sizzling over the fire, juices dropping down and making the smoke smell heavenly. There wasn't much to season them with, but Peter had discovered that salt was a pretty universal concept out in the galaxy. Sure it came in different colors, threaded with different minerals, but salt could be had pretty much anywhere and Yondu had at least kept a stash in the small kitchen. Peter watches Yondu across the fire, which Yondu had started. After Peter had struggled with a flint for thirty minutes, Yondu had merely whistled a single piercing note that had lit his arrow on fire and lit their campfire in an instant.

Said fire starter was currently stripping the flesh from a fish with disturbing speed. He swallowed, then glanced across at him. "You said yer grandsire did this wit' ya?"

Peter chooses not to focus on the fact that Yondu is starting to build a little cabin from the fish bones. "Yeah, back before my mom got sick. Came here every year." He blinked, remembering how his mom had taught him how to spit a fish, how his grandpa had brought a tiny kayak and they'd paddled their way out to the middle of the lake and caught the biggest fish Peter'd ever seen. "Back before Ego fucked everything up."

Yondu looks as concerned as he can, which for him merely means the snarky asshole grin has vanished. "Ya never did say what when on down there."

Peter stayed quiet for awhile, thinking about Ego and exactly how screwed up everything had gotten. "Asshole killed my mom. Tried to get me to join him." He couldn't help the next bit. "'Join me and we will rule the galaxy!'"

"You glad he's dead?"

Peter grinned. "Yeah, I already got the best space dad a guy could ask for." He then cracked up as Yondu rolled his eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn't roll right out of his skull.


	5. Please Tell Us Why You Had to Hide Away

When Peter had shaken Yondu's shoulder early the next morning, saying he was going into town to pick up supplies, Yondu had sent him off with two rules before rolling over and going back to sleep. "Don't buy anything, yer still a Ravager idjit. And bring back some of what ever you Terrans got for booze, if yer gonna get soft again like last night I ain't goin' through it sober." Quill had rolled his eyes, pulling his Ravager coat over his shirt. It stood up to the elements, kept him warm, and had about fifty different pockets for stashing illegally obtained materials. Of course, not everything could fit in pockets, so he grabbed a collapsible repulsorlift and a Ravager tarp, modded to able to put up a decent camouflage.

While you couldn't count on Ravagers to have things like food or water on all their ships, they always had stealing supplies.

It was a ten mile trek to town, but it went quicker thanks to a few rocket boosted jumps. He stashed the lift at the edge of town, throwing the tarp over it, the camouflage activating as soon as it settled. The first thing Peter did was find a vending machine outside a gas station and shake loose a Coke. Even after twenty years, it still tasted the same. He tossed the can aside, jacked a full can, and set off farther into town. Ridgeton had always hovered between small town and small city, mom and pop stores right next to large sporting goods dealers. Peter approached one of those large sporting goods stores, the window displays stuffed full of hunting trophies.

It took him five seconds to jimmy the lock, then two to activate the jammer in his pocket. It would block any signals going out to security companies and render any security footage to mere static. Peter grabbed a cart, pulled out his earbuds, and set his Zune to play. He smiled, remembering how Yondu had shoved it into his hands before Stakar had come over to their ship, ready to welcome Yondu back after hearing about what he had done. Yondu had pressed the device into his hands, earbuds tangled around his fingers. "Saw ya lost yer Walkman. Found this at a junker's, she said everyone on Terra was usin' it." He'd hit the center button, the display lighting up. "We had a copy of yer music in the data banks, I transferred it for ya."

Peter had grasped it like a lifeline. "Well, not all of it. Ego smashed the second tape."

Yondu had snorted, shaking his head. "If you think we didn't scan and log every single thing in that little pack a yers," He just shook his head again. "It's all on there, plus about three hundred other songs."

Three hundred songs had left him speechless, as well as the fact that Yondu had actually done something kind for him without threatening to space him or eat him, when Stakar had grasped Yondu by the shoulders, making some proclamation about how Yondu had proven himself a true Ravager in the end, and if anyone wanted to dispute that, well, Stakar was one of the fastest draws in the galaxy and they were more than welcome to try.

Peter danced through the store, Mr. Blue Sky blasting in his ear drums, dragging a cart behind him. He threw in whatever he could find, high dollar fishing poles, hooks, line, enough camping supplies to last them a month. He made sure to grab two cans of bait, knowing Yondu might just eat a can of worms just because he was tired of fish. He even did his best to pick up gifts for everyone. For Drax, two massive serrated hunting knives. Gamora, a leather archery guard she could use to keep her sword hand from bleeding after getting blisters. As much as he wanted to, Rocket would probably not appreciate the stuffed raccoon, so he grabbed the little guy a collection of gun parts and candy. Turned out the raccoon had a sweet tooth, which they discovered after he had eaten every piece of Xandarian sugar puffs on the ship. Drax had almost strangled Rocket for that, stopped only by Gamora wanting to do it herself. He picked up a variety of animal plushes for Mantis, because God knows Ego hadn't given that girl enough things to hug in her life. Yondu was getting an absolutely adorable bobblehead of a mountain lion. Kraglin was getting a knife, the antler carved with a cool design. For Groot, a collection of these new fangled things called CD's that apparently held music. He thought Groot would really like one in particular, some band called Mouse Rat that sounded pretty good when he put it in a boom box.

For Nebula, well, he just picked her up some magazines. He didn't even really look at them as he dumped them in the cart. That was all the fishing stuff, but he would need more than that. He wanted enough Cokes to last him a life time, and enough ice cream that he could eat himself sick. Plus, what kind of camping didn't have s'mores? So before he pushed his ill gotten gains out of the shop, he opened the safe, which for someone used to cracking Kree lockboxes, was nothing. He pocketed the cash, then pushed his cart back to the repulsorlift. The futuristic wagon was pretty full, but he figured he could fit more in.

But the grocery stores wouldn't be open for hours, so Peter left everything under the tarp and made his way back into town. He figured he'd find someplace to hang until the stores opened up. He was figuring a stoop or a park, but then he saw something called an Internet cafe. There were already a few people headed in, sleepy eyed and groggy. He walked in, and the smell of coffee overcame him. Turns out you could get coffee pretty much anywhere nowadays, if the people in front of him were to be believed, but apparently this place was pretty good. He ordered a large, with enough creamer in it to make it more like a hot chocolate than a coffee. He listened in to a couple of guys as he waited for his coffee.

"I'm telling you, I saw a UFO last night. Came blasting down over my trailer, then set down in the forest somewhere."

"Jerry you got into your moonshine again, and we all know it. You were going on about chemtrails the last time, and you smelled like a damn still."

"Greg, I swear to God I wasn't drunk last night."

Chuckling and sipping his coffee, Peter made his way over to the row of computers set up against the wall. They were pretty primitive, no holograms but an actual glass display. He hadn't seen that since they landed on some planet that had yet to make contact with the Xandarians. Fortunately this Internet thing wasn't as hard to navigate as the Kree cyber service, which he'd have to have Kraglin crack for him once when Peter had his bounty tripled in Kree space after an incident with a Kree general's daughter that the general had blown completely out of proportion. Hell, the thing on this computer even opened up to something called a search engine. Of course, Peter being the smug self-absorbed asshole (Gamora's words, not his) that he was, he immediately searched his own name.

There were only a few results, but one caught Peter's eye, something from a cold case website. He clicked on it and started to read.

 _Twenty-five Years and Still Holding Out Hope_

 _May 15th, 1988, was the worst day in Robert Quill's life. That night, his daughter Meredith passed away from an inoperable brain tumor and her son, Peter Jason Quill, disappeared. Robert contacted the police, but despite their efforts, they could not locate Peter. Now, twenty five years later, Robert has still not given up hope that Peter is out there somewhere. He invited our reporter to visit him, and we found his house filled with pictures of his children and grandchildren._

 _He keeps a picture of Meredith and Peter separate, set atop the mantle. It shows a beautiful brunette with an arm around a smiling five year old. Robert spoke briefly about his daughter, "She was always so loving. She loved that boy, even if his father didn't stick around. And he was a bit of a troublemaker, but he was a good boy."_

 _Robert has searched for Peter ever since that day in 1988. He still hasn't given up hope. We have included a digitally aged picture of Peter Quill at the end of this article. We ask that our readers look for anyone matching this picture, and contact the tip line that Robert Quill has open._

There was a phone number listed at the bottom of the page, and Quill couldn't help but chuckle at the picture of "him". It looked nothing like him, rather chubby actually. But there was another picture farther up in the little article. His grandpa, standing by his fireplace and looking at the picture of Peter and his mom. Peter pursed his lips, then reached into his pocket, jotting down the phone number on his hand. There was nothing wrong with calling his Gramps and telling him he was still alive. He'd find a payphone after he got groceries, before he made his way back to their campsite.

He hung around the cafe for a bit, before heading out and finding himself in the midst of paradise. There was some new store here called Wal-Mart that was absolute heaven. Quill piled his cart there high with everything he could think of, spices, sweets, ice cream, marshmallows, a gross of Coke and twenty boxes of macaroni and cheese. He also found that movies were apparently on the same type of disc as music now. He grabbed everything he could recognize, Star Wars, the Princess Bride, Indiana Jones, and thinking of Yondu, a copy of Mary Poppins. It took most of the money he'd stolen, but he felt pretty good as he walked out of the store. There had to be some kind of tech on the ship that could read those weird discs, and he could finally show everyone what he had grown up with. But it turned out that finding food was easier than finding a payphone nowadays. Everyone seemed to have these somewhat bulky handheld comm units now, and when he'd asked a lady for a nearby payphone she had looked at him like he was crazy.

"Don't you have a cellphone?" She asked, already hurrying away.

Peter snorted. Did it look like he was carrying around a giant briefcase? It took him a little while to find someone who mentioned that there was an old payphone at the library. He pulled his cart in with him, dug out a couple quarters, and dialed the smudged number on his hand. It rang three times before going to a message machine, his grandfather speaking. "Hello, if you have any information relating to the disappearance of Peter Quill on May 15th, 1988, please leave your name, number and your information and we will get back to you."

There was a beep, Peter took a deep breath, and spoke. "Hi Gramps, it's me. Peter. Sorry I haven't called. Listen, I'm in Ridgeton, out at the lake you and me and mom would go to. I don't know how long I'll be here, a week, maybe? Anyway, I'm calling on a payphone, so I guess if you want, you can just come find me at the lake. So, um, bye." He hung up the phone, turning back to his cart. Even if his grandpa didn't come out, at least he'd know he was alive.

After he had made it back to his stash, he dumped everything into the repulsorlift, and set out on the much longer trip back.


	6. Someday We'll Walk In The Rays

The M-Ship slipped out of another jump point, its occupants give a groan as the ship settled down into the planet's atmosphere. So far they'd made twelve jumps, ten to find the second jump point Yondu and Peter had used, and another two to try and figure out the one after that. Mantis collapsed back into her seat, breathing quickly. "Do you think we could stop for a moment?"

Gamora glanced down at her nav display. "For a few minutes, until we try and trace their signal."

Even Drax gave a groan at that. "I agree with Mantis. I am feeling ill."

"I am Groot." Root looked green, well, greener than usual.

Rocket glanced over. "Not you too."

"I am Groot."

Rocket's ears twitched. "He does have a point there."

"What did he even say?" Nebula hissed from her spot behind the cockpit.

"He said that not all of us are cybernetically enhanced and can't take as many jumps in a row." Rocket glanced down at a display, his makeshift tracking program scanning the space around them for any trace of the Eclector. Jump points didn't register ship details, part of why Ravagers loved them so much, but there was a brief disturbance that ships left as they went through. All Rocket had set this program to do was compare the disturbances to the probable time the Eclector came through. Unfortunately the sensors on this M-ship were particular pieces of shit so it took awhile to scan. Rocket tapped the display with a claw, narrowing the focus of the search. "Yeah, I guess we can wait for a bit."

There was a sigh of relief from the back part of the cockpit, along with Drax loudly announcing that he had to void his bowels and was claiming the head. Nebula watched him leave, her robotic hand cleaning around a brace as he walked by her. "Why do you allow that one to travel with you? He's disgusting."

Gamora unbuckled herself. "Drax takes awhile to get used to, but hygiene is not his best suit." The two sisters started to speak quietly, moving further down the hallway.

Mantis scooted closer to Rocket. She pointed at the planet below them, dark eyes taking in the warping pink and yellow gas below them. "Do people live there?"

Rocket looked up. "Nah, gas giant. Think Ragax had a refining facility out here years ago, sucking up the gas."

"It is very pretty."

"It's a big ball of gas."

Mantis smiled. "May I?" Drax had explained that most people did not like their emotions to be aired aloud, although he also thought people who got mad at Mantis for accidentally reading them deserved to be punted out of an airlock. So she reached out a palm, hoping that Rocket would let her touch his paw.

Rocket pinned his ears back, fangs bared. "No, go back to looking at your frickin' ball of gas."

* * *

Sleeping in was something a Ravager captain was not usually allowed. Sure, if your crew was blacked out you could catch a few minutes without worrying that someone was going to come and shove a knife between your ribs, but even then it paid to be on your guard. So Yondu was ready to have his arrow chase Quill off the ship when the boy shook him awake, but upon being told that the boy planned to leave, he merely gave him a few rules and fell back asleep.

Hours later, Yondu finally rolled out of bed, grabbing what had been leftover from dinner last night for breakfast. It took a bit of adjusting, but he was able to hook up the long range antenna to pick up a somewhat scratchy Shi'ar soap opera. Peter had given him shit the first time he saw him, Kraglin and Horuz gathered around the view screen, watching D'keh and R'Lek argue over who was the father of R'Lek's egg. They all knew it was D'Keh's brother Ironwing, but D'Keh seemed convinced that R'Lek had taken up with a servant. Peter had promptly declared that what they were watching was stupid, boring, and for pansies.

His shit talking had earned Peter a three week ban from watching anything at all. By the time the ban had been lifted, the boy was more than glad to join them. It tuns out space was kind of boring when you were puttering around between jobs, staying on the thin edge between the Nova Corps and the Imperium. There was only so much drinking, fighting and fucking a crew could do before even that held no appeal. So most of them had their guilty pleasures they indulged in when they hadn't grabbed a job yet. Yondu would never be able to forget finding out about the underground crochet circle he had found working out of the tailor's room, ten of the toughest Ravagers on the ship knitting together and gossiping.

There had been a silent understanding that if any of them spoke a word about it they'd find themselves gutted and spaced in short order.

So as far as off time hobbies went, Yondu felt his wasn't that bad. The soap opera ended, switching to some news story from the Imperium. He turned the display off, stretching his arms as he walked down the ramp. He didn't quite understand why Quill had such an intense attachment to this place, but then again the boy had cared for a piece of plastic like it was a child for twenty years. Yondu sat down on a nearby rock, closed his eyes, and reached out.

Years ago, on his way back from a job for Stakar, he'd ran across some ancient storyteller in a backwater bar. The storyteller had spoken about Centaurians, about how they could sense an animal halfway across the planet with their eyes closed, but lost that ability the more sentience a being had. Yondu hadn't believed it, until he tried reaching out when he was on a stakeout because, fuck it, he was curious. He gotten a couple brief impressions, but nothing more than that. Yondu briefly remembered the Kree saying something about how his implant linked him with his arrow, how it gave him more range and more power with it than a normal Centaurian would have.

They'd been talking about that before they sliced his crest off and drilled into his skull.

Maybe losing his crest meant he couldn't sense things he couldn't see, but occasionally he'd get a flash. Like yesterday, he could feel where the fish were and it seemed so simple to guide his arrow to them. Yondu tried to steady his breathing, reaching out. He could feel his prototype fin warm, red light leaking out. There was a slight flash in his mind, a fish getting spooked and swimming to deeper water. He could sense the trees better, but when would he ever need to attack a tree. Little 'ol Twig could barely harm a space rat, let alone turn on him.

Now his arrow, that he could sense with ease. No matter how far away it was, he always felt it. It was rather comforting to have it close by, something that he could feel without having to concentrate. That ancient storyteller had said Centaurians could alter the path of arrows they fired from their bows, but nothing about not needing a bow at all. Yondu felt that his arrow was more useful without a freaking bow, and why would he want to be like those other Centaurians anyway? He was a badass Ravager captain who nobody fucked with.

He opened his eyes, shook his head, and immediately regretted it. Trying to sense things gave him a splitting headache. He made his way to the lake shore, made sure that his arrow was stashed somewhere near the edge of the lake where he could easily whistle it to him, and dove in. The water was cool, relatively clear, and he dove deeper. He surfaced for air briefly, hearing a crunching from the forest. He sunk down, eyes poking out of the water, along with a good six inches of fin.

Quill was pushing an overloaded repulsorlift back, huffing as he directed it. Yondu couldn't help but grin, the boy had always had eyes bigger than his stomach. A curious fish was swimming up to his feet. Yondu jerked down, grabbed the fish, and then flung it at Quill. It smacked off his head, hit him with its tail, and then flopped all over his boots. Yondu cackled as Peter swore a blue streak.

"I can see you out there! Freakin' wannabe jaws. You're not that sneaky!" Peter yelled out, and Yondu whistled, sending Peter racing away from his arrow.


End file.
